According to You
by Zikkie
Summary: Matt's used to Mello's insults, but Mello has never gone as far as to call him useless. After all, the blonde was practically nothing without him!


According to You

**Matt:**

I leaned back on the beat up couch, my fingers flying over the buttons of my PSP. "Die," I muttered, stabbing at the buttons. "Die, die, ah crap, no--!"

'Game Over' flashed on the screen in red letters.

Resignedly, I dropped the PSP on the couch. When was Mello coming home? He'd been gone for three days straight, and I could only hope that he wasn't dead yet. But, then again, it was impossible for Mello to _die. _It simply was not.

My computer beeped. Through orange-tinted goggles, I looked up. The screen was rapidly blinking, three words appearing on the screen.

_All data deleted._

"What?!" I yelped, lunging across the room. I quickly typed in some codes, trying desperately to get the stuff back. Then the screen went black, and I pounded on the desk. I slumped onto the chair.

Mello was _not _going to be happy.

Surprisingly, I was calmer than I thought I would be. My mind automatically set itself on one questions: What happened?

I turned on the old apparatus, waiting patiently for it to load. When it was finished, I checked on some stuff. Minutes later, I found out what had happened. Someone had hacked me. Which was also impossible. I was the best hacker; who else had managed to surpass my abilities?

The last thing I needed was for Mello to come home.

I heard the door open and slam shut. The sound of heavy footsteps sounded.

I scrambled to my feet, hiding the monitor screen behind me. Mello came in view, dressed in his usual leather. He was frowning. Looks like someone was in a bad mood. Mello in a bad mood was, well, bad for most people. He tended to become rather violent. But now, it was especially bad for me, considering he looked suspicious already.

"What?" He almost growled.

I shook my head. "I'm guessing whatever you did didn't go well."

He didn't answer, just shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the couch. "Let me on the computer."

"Uh, why?" I said, hiding the panic in my voice.

"Why not?" Mello shot back. He sauntered over, stopping right in front of me. He looked down at me, and my gaze lowered to the floor. "Move."

I didn't answer. Getting a black eye or breaking a bone was better than having Mello find out that all our files had been deleted. That included information about the Kira case, some about the Mafia. I could probably get it back without him noticing.

"Matt. Move." Mello made an attempt to shove me aside. "Matt, what the heck?"

"My feet are screwed to the ground," I said meekly.

"Move!" Mello kicked my shin, and I crumpled to the floor. He roughly pushed me over, yanking the chair out and sitting on it. I didn't move from my place on the floor; I covered my ears with my hands.

_3…2…1…_

"WHERE THE **** ARE THE ******* FILES?!" Even though my hands were covering my ears, I could still feel the small crack as my eardrums broke.

"Matt!" I was jerked to my feet by the collar of my striped shirt. I opened my eyes slowly, my legs swaying in the air. "You stupid, useless piece of crap!" Of course, because Mello was Mello, he used stronger words, but I'm trying to keep this story PG.

Mello shook me for good measure. "Well?" His eyes were so full of malice…

I whimpered. "All…our files were deleted?" It was no use in lying. What other excuse could I use? The files turned invisible? Heh, that actually sounds reasonable—

I was thrown backwards and I landed hard on the floor of our dirty apartment.

"I could get them back later," I said. Mello didn't answer, his eyes trained on the screen. I sighed, getting up. This didn't do much effect to me, but Mello hadn't gone that far as too call me useless. I mean, he was practically nothing without me!

I got up, brushing dirt off of my jeans. I looked at Mello, a smirk playing on my lips.

"According to you, I'm stupid, I'm useless, I can't do anything right," I said as woefully as I could. I examined Mello's back for any reaction; there was none.

"I'm difficult, hard to please, forever changing my mind," I continued, picking up a beat. I wasn't sure if I was a good singer or not, but it was worth a try. "I'm a mess in a dress," I grinned, "Can't show up on time even if it would save my life."

Mello turned in the chair, looking at me, still glaring, but there was question in his eyes.

"According to you, according to you," I continued, pleased that I had his attention. "But according to him."

Mello's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to ask, "Who the heck is him?"

But I went on, "I'm beautiful, incredible, can't get me out of his head." I stuck my tongue out at him childishly. "According to him, I'm funny, irresistible, everything he ever wanted."

Mello stood up, angry. His eyes flashed murder—not that they hadn't before.

"Everything is opposite." I smirked at him.

"Stop it," He said dangerously, and I replied with, "I don't feel like stopping it. So, baby, tell me, what got to lose. He's into everything I'm not. According to you."

I noticed something. The malice in Mello's eyes was now gone and had been replaced with…guilt?

I grinned triumphantly. "I need to feel appreciated, like I'm not hated, oh, no. Why can't you see me through his eyes?" In three quick steps, I had closed the distance between us. I leaned into him until my mouth was beside his ear. "It's too bad you're making me decide," I whispered.

Mello's hands came up to my shoulders, and I thought at first he was going to push me away. To my surprise, he whispered back, "Am I really that bad?"

I drew back, still smiling. Much to my _greater _surprise, Mello's eyes were a little red.

"Are you crying?" I asked, incredulous. "Aw, I'm sorry, Mels, I didn't mean to make you…cry…or anything." I hugged him comfortingly.

He pushed me a foot away. He glared through his bangs, his scars only making him look even badder. "That 'him' better not be Near, got it?"

I laughed, hugging him again. Mello made noises of protest, trying to squirm out of my arms. I held on.

"I'd choose you over Near any day, know that." I patted his back.

Mello mumbled something incoherent. It sounded something suspiciously like, "You suck at singing."

I ignored the jab. "Anyway, I don't think Near would call me beautiful…"


End file.
